Written by: Sunčica Lovrečić Čekić
Although discrimination against people with disabilities is increasingly discussed, the term ableism has not yet taken root in everyday language, let alone in legislative, educational and professional practices.
In short, ableism is a systematic and individual discrimination against people who deviate from socially constructed norms of functionality, whether based on physical, mental, sensory or cognitive characteristics.
When we talk about ableism, people often think of ramps, parking spaces, the lack of elevators in buildings. And yes, that is ableism, the most visible one. But the stubbornest one is neither in concrete nor in architecture, but in beliefs.
In the Croatian legislative framework, although discrimination on the basis of disability is defined by the Anti-Discrimination Act, the term “ableism” does not exist, which is symptomatic of a wider problem. What is not named does not exist, and therefore is more easily ignored.
Ableism is the idea that the only desirable thing is to be “functional” within the framework of what we consider the norm, and anything that deviates from that norm becomes a problem. It does not matter if someone is autistic, cannot speak, cannot walk, or a combination of all of these, society does not see us as different, but as deficient. Not capable enough. Not productive enough. Not adjusted enough. Ableism is when you do not ask yourself how to make someone’s everyday life easier, but how to teach them to adapt to yours.
In schools, we call it “accommodations”, but they are given sparingly, as if they were charity. In healthcare, we call it “empathy”, but only when the patient does not dare to say too much or ask too many questions.
In language, this is seen through highly pathological descriptions of neurodivergence, the use of the terms “suffering from” or “sick”, the infantilization of adults, and the division into “high” and “low functioning”, which is neither medically nor ethically based, but serves to maintain hierarchies within the disability community itself.
In professional practice, ableism is often hidden behind the language of expertise. Parents seek “the best for the child”, and by this it is meant that the child ceases to be what they are. Experts talk about a “stimulating environment”, but they mean controlling behaviour and socializing according to the norm. People say that they are “not experts, but they have the right to an opinion”, especially when that opinion belittles the needs, rights and voice of the person themselves.
The problem is not only prejudice, but also structural power. Who determines the criteria for granting support? Who decides who “deserves” an assistant? Who makes the rules about school accommodations? These are not people who experience the consequences of discrimination every day, but institutions that rarely question their own criteria and often ignore the experience of people the system supposedly protects.
Neuroableism is a specific form of ableism aimed at neurodivergent individuals, i.e. individuals whose functioning in the areas of attention, sensory processing, speech, communication, or emotional regulation deviates from what is considered “typical”. These are most often autistic individuals, individuals with ADHD, Tourette syndrome, dyslexia, and similar neurological deviances.
Neuroableism is a special strain of that same ideology, the one aimed at neurodivergent individuals. The point here is not whether you can walk, but whether you can be silent when you are expected to be silent. Whether you can listen when others are talking about you. Whether you can act “normal enough” to be able to sit at the same table with those who generously allow your presence, as long as you do not forget who sets the rules, and above all, if you manage to hide every movement, every thought, every trace of who you are.
And here we come to the quietest and most dangerous form, internalized ableism.
It does not come from the outside. It speaks to you from the inside. It tells you that you are oversensitive. That you are making it up. That you are exaggerating. That you need to try harder, harder, harder. It makes you feel ashamed when you cannot do something, instead of getting angry that you are not allowed to.
Internalized ableism is when instead of shouting “this school is excluding me”, you whisper to yourself “maybe I am not for this”. When you do not seek support because “there are worse cases”. When you spend your whole life learning to mask but it is never good enough. It is not good for them and it is even less good for you.
Internalized ableism is the quietest and the stubbornest level of this problem. It is a condition in which people with disabilities or neurodivergent people themselves adopt the attitudes of society that discriminate against them, and begin to apply them to themselves. As a rule, it occurs as a consequence of systematic stigmatization, emotional neglect and a lack of positive identification models.
An example of internalized ableism in autistic individuals is a feeling of shame due to sensory sensitivity, speech differences, or the need for routine structure, to the point that the person tries to “fix” themselves instead of seeking adjustments. For many individuals, this leads to late diagnoses, exhaustion, masking, and the appearance of anxiety, depression, and autistic burnout, all of which can be linked to institutional failures in support and prejudice in society.
It is important to emphasize that many mental states in autistic individuals are very often the result of masking, which is a result of internalized ableism or ableism.
Ableism is a way of thinking that becomes a habit, then a rule, then an expectation. Therefore, it is not enough to build a ramp if everyone still thinks that those who need it are in the way. It is not enough to introduce an assistant to the class if this is accompanied by looks that say “now it is harder for everyone because of you”. It is not enough to say “diversity is wealth” if at the same time you measure someone’s value through “the level of functionality”.
So it is important to create spaces where neurodivergent and disabled people are welcome just as they are. Without correction, without “fixing”. This includes emotional safety, adjustments that do not need to be specifically requested, visibility and representation. We need to stop calling our needs special needs because they are not special but simply human needs.
And third, the environment can help by supporting people to access information that help them understand their own identity. When they understand themselves and their own identity, they can very often find solutions to some of their difficulties on their own.
Only when we begin to understand that the problem is not in us, but in the society that has taught us to be silent, can the real healing begin.
After that, the community is important because when you see that there is a community, a safe community of people who share your experience, who do not diminish your pain, but rather turn it into strength – that can change a lot. When you no longer think that you are the problem, but that you have always had the right to be who you are, things start to get better.
The fight against ableism requires that we stop being satisfied with visibility, symbols and “success stories”. It requires legal mechanisms that include sanctions, not just recommendations. It requires education for those who work with children, who run institutions, who shape policies. It requires language that does not hide injustice behind neutral terms.
The fight against ableism is not a fight for special conditions. It is a fight for the basic rights not to be excluded because your body, mind or way of communicating does not fit into the catalogue of desirable.
And it is not just a political fight. It is a personal fight every time we decide that we will no longer swallow shame. That we will no longer justify systems that ignore us. And that we will no longer repeat other people’s sentences for fear of being rejected if we speak our own.
For some, this will be too much. Too many demands. Too much truth. Too much voice from the mouths of those who should have been silent.
But that is precisely why we must speak.